


Bond and his bloody secrets

by CMDAK



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Gen, M/M, Vampire James Bond, and I don't mean the sparkly kind of new vampire, men-childs, though he's a new type of vampire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-06
Updated: 2017-11-06
Packaged: 2019-01-30 02:37:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12644424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CMDAK/pseuds/CMDAK
Summary: A failed mission leads to Q finding out what James really is and despite everything they have been through together, Q starts to fear him.





	Bond and his bloody secrets

**Author's Note:**

> As usual, this was supposed to be a short Halloween story, but apparently, I am incapable of writing short things. The lovely Miss Grainne from FB is to blame for me finally putting this idea down on 'paper', so I hope everyone enjoys it~

The steady beeping not too far away from his head woke up and he spent quite a bit of time trying to stop the annoying alarm clock until a doctor made her presence known and he realized that he was in a hospital and that the noise came from one of the machines that he was connected to.

 

“Do you know who you are?” The woman asked directly, shoulders tensing up when Q nodded. “If I told you that the sky is unusually blue for this period of the year, could you tell me who you are?”

 

Q sighed and shook his head, immediately getting dizzy. “MI6 really needs to come up with better code lines,” he muttered while the doctor made him lie back down again and gently grabbed his hands to keep them away from his bandaged neck. “You can call me Q and since I haven’t forgotten that you are my personal doctor, let me spare you the embarrassment of saying the Vogue line by telling you that I am the active MI6 Quartermaster and that the year is 2017.”

 

The woman visibly relaxed, but she still looked worried. “Can you tell me the last thing you remember?”

 

Q opened his mouth only to close it shut a second later, frowning. “It’s on the tip of my tongue,” he promised, the doctor humming as she flashed a light in his eyes, instructing him to follow it and count. “I know that I was on a mission when whatever happened to land me here happened, so no need to worry,” he said instead, having a surprisingly hard time doing as instructed.

 

“If I had a penny for every time an agent said that to me in an attempt to weasel their way out of proper medical care, I’d be the richest person on Earth,” she scolded, putting her little torch away before grabbing Q’s backup laptop and phone from the bedside table. “I’ll hold on to this until you get better and don’t think that I won’t have every person who visits you searched. We’ve learned a lot from the times in which 007 graced our medical wing.”

 

Hearing that number made Q feel strange, but a different kind of strange than usual. His heart did skip a beat or two which caused the machines to go haywire but his hands were sweaty, hands were trembling, he felt queasy, and he wanted nothing more than to bust through the door and get out of there.

 

“Quartermaster, can you hear me?” The doctor was now shouting at him as a nurse had finished putting an oxygen mask over his face. “You need to take slow, deep breaths and focus on nothing else but my voice.”

 

But he was much more interested in the door behind the woman and how someone from the other side was struggling to get in – or rather, on how important it was for him to get out of there before that happened. He turned away from the door, planning on running in the opposite direction, but he bumped into the same door. He tried turning again, but the door was there again and he threw himself against it when he saw that it almost opened.

 

“ _We know you’re in there, little mouse_ , _so open up,_ ” the voices came from behind the door and even in his panicked state, Q couldn’t help but snort.

 

Who in their right mind would open this door without holding a functioning weapon? For that matter, who in their right mind accepted the existence of a door that could change its location in the blink of an eye?

 

“Obviously, someone who’s dreaming,” he said out loud and everything around him faded into darkness except for a sliver of light that fell on something a few feet away from him. But even though he was a curious person by default and he knew now that he was definitely dreaming, Q still shut his eyes tightly when he felt _something_ draw nearer to him and began chanting. “It’s just a dream, it’s just a dream; it’s nothing but a damned nightmare…”

 

He screamed when someone touched him and he tried kicking them, confused as to why there was a net around his legs and then understanding that it was a blanket until his brain fully woke up, more than thankful that the IV in his arm stopped him from punching Eve Moneypenny.

 

“Don’t try to talk and don’t move,” Eve said quickly as she pushed the red button on the remote she was holding. “You still have the mask around your face and I don’t want anyone that’s not on the medical staff to remove it,” she explained when Q frowned, holding his laptop up for him to see it when his hands touched the mask. “If you do this for me and play nice with the doctors, I’ll make sure they’ll let you use this for one hour.”

 

He nodded and relaxed his hands, rolling his eyes when a nurse started to explain in great detail what she was about to do – especially since he had a _mask_ over his face and not a tube stuck down his throat. After five minutes of her just yapping with her hand hovering over the mask, he wanted to push the woman away and just disconnect everything himself, but he had been in Eve’s place many times and asked the same thing of the agent, so he knew how much it meant for everyone if he stood still – but he still asked the woman for two hours with his laptop and internet after he could talk again.

 

“Our deal was for one hour and no internet was mentioned,” Eve cheekily said, apparently forgetting that Q still had the higher ground since the doctors had yet to star their actual check-up.

 

As a reminder, he pulled the covers all the way up to his neck and created a cocoon around himself, aware and uncaring that he was acting like a five-year old child. “I’m thinking we renegotiate our deal.”

 

“I told M that 007 was a horrible influence on you,” she grumbled and Q once again lost focus on the world for a moment, the door from his nightmare flashing in front of his eyes, only this time it was scratched and covered in blood, whimpers and begs for mercy echoing around him.

 

“I’m fine,” he breathed out when he realized that Eve was gently shaking him. “I’m just a bit tired and I really don’t think that taking blood out now will do anything other than make me dizzy and I quite like when I don’t perceive the Earth’s rotation,” he quickly added when he saw one of the nurses slowly making her way towards him with what had to be the hugest needle in existence.

 

“I’m just adding some vitamins to your IV, Quartermaster, and nothing else,” she said slowly and Q’s eye twitched.

 

Sure, she could waste his life explaining something useless, but not in what she planned on sticking a sharp, thick object. “I’m starting to see why all the agents hate this place,” he muttered.

 

Eve frowned and lightly slapped his shoulder, clicking her tongue. “Don’t think I won’t tug on your ears just because you’re in a hospital bed, Q.”

 

“Aren’t I suffering enough already?” He whined, flinching when the bloody light was back in his eyes. “Give me a little warning in the future, please! And don’t—”

 

The doctor put an ending to his whining by shoving a thermometer in his mouth and Q’s hatred from them increased because he knew they had the fancy electrical ones. He planned on spitting the blasted thing out, but then he remembered 008 complain about how they still had the rectal ones, so things could definitely be worse.

 

“Quartermaster, you look like you’re about to vomit,” the doctor pointed out, narrowing her eyes. “Do we need to free up that hole?” Q was quick to shake his head, trying to smile as innocently as he could. “That’s a good Quartermaster.”

 

All of them were bloody monsters that needed to attend bedside manner classes.

 

Two hours – and many, many questions from Eve that were left unanswered since really he couldn’t remember anything beyond getting the mission – later, he was finally left alone with his crappy green tea without a single drop of sugar and laptop. But could he entertain himself by hacking into the mission files and security tapes to see what had gone down? The door that was slowly opening was a loud and definitive no.

 

“The two hours aren’t up yet!” He snapped, freezing in shock when he saw who had come in.

 

“There should be a nice nurse – male or female or whatever floats your boat – involved when you let out a whine like that, Q,” Bond teased as he plopped on the chair next to Q’s bed and pulled the laptop towards him so he could peek at the screen. “Tisk, I was expecting some form of porn. Although who knows what you’re seeing in— Q, are you okay?”

 

No, no he wasn’t. His whole body was trembling, his lungs burned every time he took a breath, and his heart was beating so fast that it actually hurt him. Was this a panic attack or a heart attack? Well, either way, it was a good thing that he was having a whatever while he was in the hospital, right? And, because Bond was present, he didn’t have to worry about dying before anyone from the medical staff got to him, right?

 

Except, why were things getting worse every time he looked at Bond? Why couldn’t he get air in anymore? Oh God, why couldn’t he get his leg muscles to listen to him so he could get the hell out of the room that was becoming smaller with every second that ticked by?

 

“Fix him now!” Bond growled at the doctor that was suddenly being shoved in his face.

 

“I think he’s having a panic—”

 

“I know what he’s having!” The dangerous agent snapped at the doctor, very easily lifting him in the air by the back of his shirt so he could better glare at him. “If you don’t fix him before he passes out, I’ll make you pass out and trust me… I have more than enough money to pay for anything that I’ll break with you and that’s including the really expensive equipment your department just got.”

 

If Q been mentally present to witness that kind of threat, he would have ordered Bond to back down and threatened him with psych evaluations for the rest of the year to get him to listen to him but right now all he could hear was the door jiggling while people shouted in agony beyond it.

 

But his blood only turned to ice when silence fell and the jiggling turned into scratches. “ _It’ll be better for you if you open the door yourself, little mouse_ ,” the haunting voice demanded in a whisper. “ _I won’t harm you too much, I promise._ ”

 

“Leave me alone!” He shouted when his shoulders were grabbed and put all of his force behind his punch, something tripping him when he tried to run away. “You’ll regret not letting me go this instant!” He warned, but the other’s hold on him just increased in strength.

 

“You tripped on the useless orderly after you knocked him out without breaking a sweat, so I think I’ll hold on to you,” Bond whispered in his ear and gently started to rock him back and forth, forcing him back in reality. “This is because of what happened during the mission, isn’t it?”

 

“I don’t actually remember what happened so I don’t know why I’m acting like this,” Q said in a meek voice, still not quite in control of what he was feeling. “I also don’t know why I’m shivering since I’m sweating like a pig.”

 

“You’re just in shock,” he explained, moving his hands up and down Q’s back. “Get him the best bloody blanket you have and don’t you dare take it literally unless you want to take up residence in here until all your bones fuse back together,” Bond hissed at the still moaning orderly despite the five ones that were doing absolutely nothing other than staring in the doorway. “And have a doctor give him some sedatives.”

 

If he had nightmares when he was awake, than sleeping was definitely off the table. “I’m actually feeling a lot better,” he tried to lie through his chattering teeth. “No medicine needed and I would be very thankful if we all kept quiet about this so no other departments get involved.”

 

“As much as I hate psychiatrists,” Bond started to explain as he wrapped the shock blanket around him, “I’ll make sure you talk with a few of the best we have in the morning and if they do nothing for you, I’ll get you better ones.”

 

This was for the first time that Q found himself on the receiving end of the man’s ‘no bullshit’ voice and he was a lot more terrified of it than he thought possible. He practically hid himself under the other blanket that James tried to tuck around him, doing his best not to make any form eye contact with the man since he didn’t think his heart could take it.

 

“Q—”

 

“I’m completely fine now, so you can go about your business,” he interrupted James, shutting his eyes tightly when the blanket was pulled down.

 

“My business is you,” Bond said softly, pushing a glass of water against his now. “Now sit up and take your medicine.”

 

Q wanted to make the man promise that he wouldn’t have any dreams, but his words and brain failed him as soon as he opened his mouth and because his heart was starting to beat fast again, he simply took it and returned to his cotton shelter while Bond herded everyone out of the room, throwing in a few threats left and right to make sure that their response time would be better should Q get another panic attack as he plopped himself back down on the chair next to Q.

 

Numbness spread in Q’s chest a few minutes later and his shivering subsided, but he didn’t quite feel sleepy yet. “Eve got me two hours of laptop time.”

 

“I’m not stopping you,” Bond said simply. “Oh, do you need the expert to help you with the bed?”

 

“I need you out of the room,” Q snapped and he felt the man freeze right above him. “I can’t properly concentrate on what I need to do with anyone near me.” He heard it as he said it, but he made no move to correct himself. Bond was free to think whatever he wanted as long as he did it as far away from him as possible.

 

“I’ll be right outside your room if you need anything and if you’re okay with that,” Bond said after a moment of silence. “Are you sure you don’t want me to help you with the bed?”

 

Q bit down on his lip and quickly nodded, all the tension finally leaving his body only after he heard the door close. He didn’t know why he felt better with a wall between himself and his favourite agent, but it was his duty as the Quartermaster to find out why in order to ensure his relationship with a field agents whose life depended on him wasn’t compromised.

 

Everything related to his mission was locked tight behind three firewalls and Q felt insulted both because of they tried to keep the information a secret from him and because of how easy it was for him to bypass them. Well, on a closer inspection, they weren’t as easy as he thought they be and did prove that his superiors did own a functioning brain, but he was still very confident that he could take them down way before the two hours were up.

 

Okay, maybe ten minutes before that and it was only because the pill was finally kicking in and it was really hard for him to keep his eyes open and keep typing something that wasn’t gibberish. But he finally got through the last wall without anyone noticing him and he copied everything he thought was important on his hard drive just seconds before his connection was cut.

 

Not that it mattered since Eve’s head appeared in the doorway just three minutes after that, giving him a heart attack in the process. “You’re time is up, darling.”

 

“Can I get ten minutes with just my laptop?” He whined like a child, hugging the laptop close to his chest.

 

“Q.”

 

“No internet, just the laptop,” he tried to barging without yawning. “I can’t sleep unless I’m watching a movie.”

 

She glared at him, knowing that he was lying to her, but he was her secret weakness. If Q asked her to do something she did it in a blink of an eye, no questions asked, no fancy gift in return expected. So she sighed and hung her head, maybe stepping on James’ foot to keep him quiet. “Just don’t think that you can sneak out past the lummox out here to get yourself some Earl Grey.”

 

He currently didn’t trust his legs to carry him past Bond even if his bladder was about to explode, but he wasn’t about to tell her that – though his face might have done something because she started to look worried all of a sudden. “Q, are you sure you wouldn’t prefer I got the nice doctor to give you something stronger?”

 

Q shook his head. “Just aftershocks of my earlier panic attack and nothing more.”

 

“That’s PTSD and if it truly is that, I’ll serve M his own intestines because the Quartermaster is not supposed to ever get that,” Bond growled, the sound of his knuckles cracking echoing down the silent hallway.

 

“James, learn when a violent response is proper and when it isn’t,” Eve hissed before turning with a huge smile back at Q. “Just don’t strain yourself too much, darling, or you’ll end up prolonging your stay here.”

 

He promised as honestly as he could that he wouldn’t and she pretended to believe him, asking Bond in a whisper to check up on him as subtly as he could and without being seen as often as he could – Q was quick to promise in a shaky voice that he’d throw everything he could get his hands on if that door opened even for one second after which he’d somehow manage to find a way to push his bed up against it.

 

“I’ll still be able to hear you tapping away at your keyboard anyway.” He came off sounding a lot creepier than he probably wanted and Q was starting to have second thoughts about that something stronger Eve had promised him.

 

But he soldiered through those thoughts as he read through his mission’s specs and multiple reports from all his little minions that were playing his role for the night, sort of remembering that all he had to do was meet up with an MI5 agent to pick up a simple USB stick he had recovered from a dying MI6 agent. It didn’t say how he got it and Q was sure that he worded his suspicion about how things were supposed to go down, but the file did say that the man felt like he couldn’t trust anyone from either agency but the Quartermaster himself and that he even so much as smelled another agent, he’d bolt.

 

Now MI6 had a hard time letting Q go alone to his own house and everybody in management was still throwing a fit about how close he had gotten to getting snatched during the whole Spectre thing, so they put their best and deadliest agent and namely 007. Q couldn’t remember being part of this conversation if he was sure that he had entered the building alone, but then again Bond could put a ninja to shame and made the feeling of being watched was a familiar one.

 

The report suddenly ended with twenty five people dead, ten mission, six about to die, and him being packed up in an ambulance with no mention of how that happened which kind of defeated the purpose of an ‘after mission’ report – then again, seeing that Bond was supposed to write that part up since he was out of commission, it was a bloody miracle they even had that part in there.

 

Thank God Q had enough foresight not to fully trust what they had in their systems and also downloaded all the security videos he could find in the building’s servers from that night, his lips becoming tasty all of a sudden when it came to watching them.

 

A voice in his head whispered that he should let sleeping dogs lie and just find a way to fake his braveness when it came to Bond and although tempted and sure that he could pull it off since he was sure that the art of pretending had rubbed off on him after working for so many years with spies, but his curiosity defeated his fear and he hit the play button, biting down hard on his lower lip to keep himself from whimpering.

 

He saw himself go in the building and how his would-be attackers silently poured in behind him and he remembered that he knew he wasn’t alone, brushing his hand up against a still mysterious weapon – that hadn’t been mentioned anywhere in the report so that meant he had snuck it out – in his pocket as he continued to go deeper into the rabbit hole.

 

The smell of rotten wood invaded his nostrils suddenly and although Q felt nauseated by that, he continued to watch himself confront the MI5 operative who had greeted him with his gun drawn and although the videos were silent, he could clearly hear the conversation the two of them were having.

 

“Despite the way it looks, this isn’t personal,” the traitor said before letting out a nervous laugh.

 

Q rolled his eyes because he had heard that line directed to so many of his agents that it was part of the morbid Bingo game they always played in his branch while running very low risk missions. “Let me guess: my death and the death of all the other agents that are named on that stick is just business, right?”

 

“Yes, yes,” the traitor said excitedly cocking the gun. “Or it will be as soon as you decipher the code for me and don’t pretend that you can’t because we know you were the one who came up with it in the first place.”

 

“You’re not even worth the effort of that lie.” Teasing the person who held you at gunpoint was usually a bad idea. However Q knew the other wouldn’t dare to actually shoot him since his brain was needed. Shooting the wall behind him and making him flinch right before promising to inflict the most pain he had ever felt was another story altogether, but as soon he was done doing that, a loud banging echoed throughout the building and all the video fees went to static.

 

He started to rewind the last two minutes on every other camera but the one in the room he was in in hopes of finding out what had happened, but the most he got out of each room was a blurry image that flashed before the cameras seconds before they went dead.

 

“Great; a bloody dead end,” he grumbled, tapping his fingers next to the mousepad as he tried to come up with a plan to reach where the internet modem was kept and turn it on without passing by Bond.

 

“Don’t even try is since there’s only one exit from that room, Q,” Bond called out, his smug grin evident in his voice. “Somewhat of a huge flaw in normal circumstances if you ask me – and make no mistake in assuming that I won’t address this to M as soon as possible – but a blessing in disguise given my current mission.”

 

That was a challenge if he ever heard one and he was not only going to take it, but also embarrass Bond with how easy he was going to get out - as soon as his heart calmed down again which should give him ample time to get his eyelids to listen to him and open up.

 

His internal struggles lasted for maybe five minutes and when he opened his eyes again, he knew he had failed since he was facing that horrid door again and dread was filling in despite the fact that he was aware that everything was going on in his head.

 

“I will count to three and then wake up,” he announced to no one in particular, crossing his arms over his chest to still the tremor going through them. “One--”

 

“Little mouse,” the voice interrupted him but Q just shook his head and shut his eyes tightly.

 

“Two,” he insisted as the rattling started. “And three! I'm awake now and back in my hospital room!” Only, he wasn't and the door was wide open, a macabre sight greeting him.

 

What little courage he had in him instantly fled, the certainty of nothing bad happening to him in his own world slipping from him just as fast.  His stomach lurched and he smacked his hands against his face to keep himself from smelling the blood that painted every inch of the room and himself from whimpering while the treacherous feet which were supposed to be either made out of lead or do weak that they couldn't support his weight slowly started to bring him right smack in the slaughter that had happened.

 

He stupidly kept on walking forward, no thought in his mind as he passed through bloody room after bloody room, hypnotised by an unknown crunchy wet sound.

 

“Bond,” he heard himself whisper and the animal before him slowly turned with its prey still in its mouth, soulless eyes looking right through him. “Bond, what are you?” He demanded to know in a broken screech, the side of his neck starting to hurt just as the other was suddenly leaning close to him, his warm breath that smelled like wet rusted iron washing over him and making him sicker still. “What are you?” he whispered again although he already knew the answer and the world around him shattered, giving way to the reality in which he was standing up on his bed, clutching his bandaged neck as he screamed for his life.

 

“I took care of them, Quartermaster, I promise,” Bond was saying over and over again in a calm, soothing voice as he gently rubbed Q’s s back and seemingly unaffected by the eye that was slowly swelling. “Nothing and no one that even thinks about lifting a finger against you gets to see another sunrise as long as I’m in this world.”

 

But the words did not really register in Q’s mind. All he saw that that mouth dripping with human blood and the man drenched in red from head to toe while his own blood was flowing down his neck and he wanted nothing else in that second than to get away from him.

 

“Leave,” Q whimpered, shaking violently, his stomach and threat burning. “Leave,” he said louder and tried to push the other away. “Leave!” He ended up shouting because Bond tried to hug him tighter even, _hissing_ and growling at the orderlies that tried to hold Q down so they could inject him with a heavy sedative.

 

He greeted his temporary coma with open arms, thankful for the nothingness he felt and the emptiness of his mind in the following morning. It didn’t last for long, his heart starting to act up once again not two minutes after he finished stretching but he stopped the two doctors that were waiting for him by the foot of his bed with even more drugs.

 

“I need a moment or two hours to process reality and determine for myself if I am sane or not.” He was aware that his lack of sanity was currently being vouched for by the fact that he was sitting on top of the bed and trying to fend the doctors who meant him no harm with his IV stand, but that was only because he was trying to hold on to senses. “For that matter, could you please get M to come see me this instant.”

 

It didn’t take the man a full minute to get to Q’s room and that made him start to feel weary about his boss too. Even with all of his credentials, it took Q a full twenty minutes to get to the wounded agents and he had done the ‘Medical run’ with the former M twice when he had been a minion himself, so the current M had to be a ghost that could pass through walls or something to get there so fast.

 

A careful poke with the stand revealed that the man was solid as they came, but he’d seen many movies in which the ghosts—what the hell kind of train of thought was he on? “The sedatives you give out here are too strong for those who aren’t agents.”

 

M chuckled, shooing the doctors out of the room before sitting down on the bed and patting the spot to his left, silently asking for Q to do the same. “I could try to insult you and ignore the fact that you are part of our upper management and just say that you’re still under the influence of a huge shock, but I will instead ask you if you’ve ever heard of MI13.”

 

Q dropped the stand and covered his ears. “I already hate the direction this conversation is going in, so can we not have it and you just send me to a nice little cabin somewhere in the mountains?”

 

M awkwardly patted Q’s shoulder as he placed a really thick file in his lap. “I have to go do a lot of damage control and you can read this to your heart’s content or not, it’s up to you.” He got up and squeezed Q’s shoulder, his look softening. “However, before you set it on fire, keep in mind the fact that Pandora ’s Box has already been opened; might as well see what’s at the bottom of it, right?”

 

Damn his curiosity!

 

***

 

Though not exactly the signs of a sane man, James found it soothing when he killed flies with needles. Furthering his lack of sanity was the fact that he took pleasure in how quickly and painlessly he dispatched the annoying pests, permitting himself a moment of fantasy in which he was actually praised by someone who mattered for doing them this favour.

 

“Would it kill you to act normal at least when we’re having a serious conversation?” Eve asked him drily, drumming her well-manicured fingers on her desk, eyes narrowed more in hatred than annoyance.

 

“Acting normal for me is destroying every single threat—”

 

“I’m not drunk enough to have this conversation with you if you’re going to be like that,” Eve interrupted him, resting her forehead in the palm of her hand. “Now that I think about it, if you’re not going to be serious, go mope around in someone else’s office since the novelty of seeing you doing that wears off after a month. ”

 

“Do you want me to go do that in Q’s office?” James challenged and Eve just snorted.

 

Everybody knew that outside of missions, James Bond was persona non grata as far as the Quartermaster was concerned and every time he found himself in the head boffin’s office outside of a mission – he had been indefinitely suspended after the last one, mind you – and without a good reason – that had to be related to either MI6 being under attack, the country being under attack, or his life being at stake, which was never the case because Q did not want James to explain anything about what had happened during the mission – Q ended up being very stressed while James found himself on the receiving end of a series of most unfortunate events.

 

“Did Q lift the ban on you at the same time you developed a sudden love for Holy Water showers?” Eve shot back without missing a beat.

 

Although you couldn’t tell by how sour Q looked, that was his favourite unfortunate event and he always found a creative way to dump that stuff on him. The first time it happened, James was almost tempted to believe that it truly was an accident since the fire alarm went off, but then he saw Q glare at him from under an umbrella while the distinct smell the Holy Water had embedded itself in his skin for the next three weeks.

 

Logically, that would had been the end of it, but Q just got water that was holier and the second time, three boffins spilled their bottles of water that had been imported from the Vatican on him under the Q’s watchful glare. Clearly Q decided that the water hadn’t been distributed correctly since the third time he took a holy shower, a little plastic bag exploded right in his face when he leaned forward to check something out on a weapon as he was instructed by his Quartermaster and that was also when James tried to confront Q about what he was doing because he couldn’t take the man wasting his money like this.

 

“I think we established by now that this stuff doesn’t do anything to me and to be frank, not to anyone else unless they’re deadly allergic to water,” he said as he helped himself to Q’s tissues.

 

Q forced a snort, busying himself with rearranging his emergency locker. “Why would I think water affects you? It’s not like we’re in Oz and you’re the wicked witch of the West.”

 

If he didn’t smell the pure fear that was emanating off of Q, James would have glided next to him and tapped his nose. But things being the way they were, he slowly started to back away towards the door. “Stop throwing your money at the Vatican, Q,” he called over his shoulder, ending up with a bucket of the stuff over his head because the minions were immature children with little to no imagination. “And tell them to stop or else you’ll need new minions.”

 

He somehow ended up being even more banned than before, Bill Tanner informing him that he wasn’t to so much as make eye contact with any boffin or else Q promised that he’d implant him with a chip that would shock him. Of course James decided that he wasn’t going to take that punishment lying down and he tried to sweeten Q with all sorts of little gifts that were sent back to him with a very confused priest playing the role of delivery man.

 

“The ban would be lifted a lot faster if _you_ would actually try to talk with him and explain things in my place or convince M to give him my bloody file.” There was a plea in there for her to do just that, but it got lost under an accusatory tone.

 

A tone which Eve did not like one bit if her glared was any indication and James was reminded of all the time he had spent separated from society in which he had forgotten how to be a proper human, but how easy it had been to re-enter it as soon as he proved that he was nothing more than a heartless monster who did not have any qualms going on suicidal missions since he was hard to kill.

 

“Firstly, someone let it slip that I knew about your little condition over there, so I too am banned from his domain,” he was doomed, “and secondly, Q gave M that file back after he was done banishing me and giving me that stern look of his that really shouldn’t affect me because of my age, but it does. Bloody boffin and his supernatural guilty-ing powers,” she muttered, looking murderous at James because her fall from grace was his fault.

 

“I miss how easy things were in the ‘50s,” only not really since the reason why he was having all these problems was because human mentality had changed so much that he started to consider himself a human again and allowed himself to experience actual feelings.

 

As of result of that, he had tried his best to try and act normal – or as normal as someone who had a licence to kill could – and he really hadn't meant to lose control over that inhuman part of him that always scratched at the back of him mind in front of Q, but when he had heard that they were planning to torture him until he gave them everything they wanted and knowing that Q was the type of loyal ‘dog’ who would die miserably before he did that, the beast came out and he was glad that none of them were left to breathe on the same planet as the boffin.

 

Though, after giving everything a second thought, he should have guessed he would go mental on whoever wanted to harm Q since the second he caught sight of him on that bench in the museum, he had branded him as one of the most innocent of human beings that needed to be protected – and that was before he fell for him. Once that factor was added… well, suffice to say that he would literally paint the whole world in red and turn each and every one of the man’s enemies into bloody puddles on the ground.

 

“You're making a really creepy face at the worst possible, you prick, ” Eve muttered, suddenly busy with one of the many menial tasks that she deemed below her which tipped him off that someone important was making their way over to them.

 

He turned his head just in time to end up with his face right in Q’s stomach – despite the smell of garlic that was emanating off of him – and for a single second in which the other man’s body heat washed over James and his heartbeat drowned out every other noise and the harsh reality itself, everything was okay. He wanted to wrap his arms around Q and cover himself with his body, but he had enough sense and brain to know to hold back, especially since the other man jumped five meters back as if he had been burned.

 

“Watch where you put your face, Bond,” Q snapped at him, hands over his heart. “Miss Moneypenny, M asked to see me as soon as possible?”

 

The woman furrowed her brows, quickly starting to check her mail and phone. “I have no—”

 

“My request went directly to the Quartermaster,” M interrupted her, flashing James a cold smile. “I had a feeling you’d be loitering in front of my office, so I’m inviting you on this emergency meeting directly. And by ‘inviting’, I mean ‘ordering’, of course,” he added before James could come up with any lame excuse not to attend for Q’s sake.

 

“I’m running two, highly important missions,” Q tried to excuse himself and James had to give him a mental pat on the back for not blinking too often, looking away from M, or worrying his lips as he said that.

 

Not that M bought it. “If that were the case, the building on fire couldn’t get you out of your branch, much less a meeting with me.” He opened the door wider, expecting them to march in his office without another word – which they did, Q first out of shame, with his head held down like he was some kind of naughty high school boy who got in trouble, and James second because Q.

 

The awkward silence stretched between them for what felt like an eternity, Q finding his twiddling thumbs very interesting, James doing his best not to look murderous at their boss, and M ignoring both of them as he pretended to look through some files with a very obvious pleased look on his face.

 

“Can this meeting start before the Quartermaster has a heart attack?”

 

“I won’t have a heart attack!” Q snapped at him, crossing his arms over his chest to hide the fact that he was reaching for a little can of mace – though James suspected that it had been ‘upgraded’ to garlic and holy water spray. “But I would greatly appreciate it if the meeting was already ending.”

 

“This meeting starts when you two start having an actual conversation with each other,” M said as he turned the page he was pretending to read. “I can't be forced to choose between the two of you without attempting a reconciliation since Q, you are a genius, and Bond you are…” He trailed off and poured himself a glass of whiskey, pulling a face at the words that followed. “This will be the only time during my lifetime in which I say this because your ego is already huge enough to occupy another planet, Bond, but you are the best agent in the world and a weapon we don't want to lose or find ourselves forced to decommission.”

 

Q looked determined as he opened his mouth to correct M on something, but confusion quickly overtook him and James assumed he found it in himself to allow him to be seen as a weapon. And that was okay. No, that was so fine that it turned into perfect. Actually, more than perfect, even though James had tried over and over again to keep Q from seeing him as anything but a very reckless human being.

 

“We have all day, gentlemen,” M hummed.

 

“You keep forgetting that Q is liable to get a heart attack before we have an actual heart to heart,” James muttered, frowning. “Look, I’ll make things easier for everyone involved by resigning.”

 

“That’s going too far,” Q quickly intervened. “I have no issues directing him through the coms and he has no reason being in my office outside of missions anyway, so he doesn’t have to resign.”

 

James snorted, rolling his eyes, “The fact that you can’t even look at me or address me directly proves that I do need to do just that.”

 

“No, it doesn’t.” It was for the first time since the hospital in which Q’s eyes and his met and despite the anger and annoyance in them, James counted it as a success.

 

“Yes, it does,” James said calmly. “Every time you see me, your heart goes haywire, you start to sweat, your pupils dilate, and you start attacking me with every cliché in the book even though I constantly tell you they don’t work.”

 

Q’s usual pallor was replaced was replaced with a soft shade of pink. “I’m just trying to determine what I need to protect you from on the field given your _condition_. Speaking of which, how do you react to silver? How about silver crosses?”

 

“Unless the silver crosses are bullet-shaped and they are aimed at my heart, head, or anywhere else that might be considered a vital point, it does absolutely nothing, which is true for the rest of humanity,” James deadpanned. “Look, if you want to turn me into some kind of lab rat—”

 

“I don’t want to do that,” Q interrupted, clearly offended. “I just want to make sure I have every situation covered!”

 

James huffed, called his bullshit, and they were at each other’s throats like an old married couple that should have never gotten married in the first place while M made himself as small and invisible as possible, not because he was embarrassed for being present to the supposed conversation, but because he didn’t want the two to stop – then again, it didn’t look like there was anything in the world that could do that.

 

Q was going on and on about how he totally wasn’t afraid of him and how dare he for implying that and thinking so much of himself? His heart always did that when he was present and he better not take that and twisted into meaning something that it didn’t because Bond was already on thin ice with him for everything he had done in the past and especially for keeping something as important as what he was from his own bloody Quartermaster.

 

He didn't need him for anything else besides giving directions because he was some kind of a creature that was impervious to everything in existence? Fine, but don't keep it a secret because Q had spent countless nights creating stuff especially for him and he could really use the rest and the lack of stress that had come with babysitting the most picky, reckless, and hypocritical agent that worked under the MI6 banner!

 

And yes he was all those things, especially the last one because if he got to drunkenly whine for almost half a night at the last year's Halloween party about him not knowing that Q was interested in sex and heavily leaned towards having male partners in bed and when it came to relationships, then he got to throw this huge secret in his face as well.

 

He stopped to take a deep breath, feeling a bit dizzy and that was James’ cue to step in.

 

Of course he was going to complain about not knowing that the person who he had been tasked with protecting from the second they were introduced had someone in their lives since he had to at least do a background check on the scum – and he did turn out to be just that, didn't he? Or had he misheard Q telling Eve about how his supposed better half whined whenever Q said that he needed to actually sleep after working for three days straight?

 

“You had no right to listen in on a private conversation—”

 

“That took place in a public place where anyone and everyone could hear it,” James pointed out, pretty much presenting Q his cheek for the slap he knew he deserved.

 

“—not to mention that you always are the main reason why I so rarely got home without being dead on my feet!” Q continued undeterred, preferring to stab James’ chest as hard as he could with his bony finger. “And to make things worse, despite all of my hard work, you never even tried to take care of the things that I gave you or yourself!”

 

Annoyed that Q was still going on about some stupid equipment and about the few times in which he might have gotten nicked by a few bullets here and there and before he started to lose his cool over those incidents, he kindly remind him that he was a monster and that’s why he was testing all sort of things on him that were less than effective.

 

“Just let me quit, pay for a good psychiatrist, and pretend it never happened,” James finally demanded.

 

Q’s nostrils flared, face red from anger rather than embarrassment for the first time in a lot of weeks. “If you want to be a bloody idiot, continue to be one with my blessings! Ignore the fact that I am doing my best to still be a good Quartermaster and ensure that you don’t get killed by something as ridiculous as walking in a bloody Church despite the whole ripping my throat open—”

 

“You mean to say despite the fact that I ripped apart those peons in front of you, right? And despite how I got carried away afterwards, right?” James interrupted, his anger at the other’s stubbornness disappearing in a flash.

 

“Yes, I’m referring to you rushing me and ripping my throat open like I was some kind of snack bag after you turned everyone into red mush,” Q explained, eyes widening as he saw a glimpse of how terrifying James looked back then and his hand shot up to his still bandaged neck.

 

James needed a moment to find the right words, mouth drying the instant he opened it.  “I wasn’t the one who did that to your throat. The clean-up team spent quite a lot of days getting that person off the walls and floor and I’m still sending them gifts…” He dropped that train of thought and gently grabbed Q’s arm when he saw the man’s colour start to change for the worse, helping him sit down on the chair, kneeling before him. “I was talking about losing myself in the moment and kissing you right before I started to lick your wound until the main artery closed so you wouldn’t bleed to death before the medical team got there.”

 

“I’ll get HR in here,” M muttered, already on his phone.

 

Q blinked a few times. “You what?”

 

“I kissed you and licked your neck to save your life,” James said again, softer, daring to cup Q’s chin because he hadn’t stuffed that silly little garlic can down his throat and his warmth was addicting and inviting. “I was in a really dark place and, like always, you were the light that guided me back to sanity, so before I knew what I was doing, I just…” He leaned forward a little and Q’s breath hitched, eyes widening.

 

“Oh, no, no, no,” the elderly HR woman tutted as he kicked in the office door, grabbing James’ ear and tugged him away from Q. “You most definitely aren’t allowed to do that, Mister Bond.” She pulled a chair right between them and turned to smile sweetly at Q, digging her sharp nails in James’ earlobe. “Would you feel safer if we brought security in here?”

 

“No,” Q quickly said, covering his mouth. “I kissed a corpse and I don’t feel so good.”

 

He ran out of the room and James made to follow him, but the woman was much stronger than she looked and she pulled him right back down in the chair. “While we give the young man a few moments, you will tell me what you did and if you lie, I will make things ten times worse for you.”

 

Q went to vomit after finding you the two of them had kissed, so James highly doubted the woman could live up to her promise.

 

***

 

He had gone through an entire tube of toothpaste and half a bottle of mouthwash, but he still felt like he needed to clean his mouth despite the fact that he couldn’t really feel his tongue anymore. But what sane person wouldn’t feel that need after finding out that they had made out with a corpse? For that matter, what same person so easily accepted the existence of something that was supposed to be just an old wives’ tale and got pissed off with the thing because they didn’t share what they were earlier in their relationship?

 

Since the answers he gave himself to those questions were less than satisfactory, Q wasted no time in calling Medical. “I need to extend my medical leave on the cause of psychological stress.”

 

He was granted an extra month of leave in a blink of an eye and with no questions asked, M calling him a few minutes later to promise him that he wouldn’t be bothered by anyone during that period – a promise which was broken two hours later when Bond spawned at his door, the file that Q couldn’t bring himself to finish reading back in his hospital room clutched tightly in his arms.

 

“I know you stopped reading this because you don’t know that there are more stages to what I am and that I am currently very much alive and not undead, so you really need to find another reason to be disgusted with me,” the ‘man’ grumbled at him, stopping the door from getting shut in his face with his foot. “I’m here to drop this thing off along with the restraining order that HR drafted up for you to sign. You can take pleasure in knowing that Eve will have my head for relieving her of the latter and M for the former.”

 

“I won’t and I’d also like you to leave right now,” Q shot back and started to kick James’ foot in an attempt to shut the door properly because, for whatever reason that contradicted his earlier attempts, he couldn’t bring himself to start hitting him with the door directly – plus, he was sure that Bond had super-speed so he could pop in his apartment the second he tried to get some momentum with the door. “How the bloody hell did you get in this building anyway? Isn’t your kind supposed to be _invited_ in?”

 

“Now if that were true, my current job would sort of impossible to do, wouldn’t it?”

 

The smug look he had on while pointing what he thought to be the obvious made Q start to hit his leg with even more determination, but that only made him tire faster and he ended up leaning against the door. “That point is moot because I do not remember a single mission in which you didn’t get invited where you were supposed to sneak in without anyone detecting you,” he panted out, flinching when Bond patted his head.

 

“Stop assuming things about me, finish reading this and then let me know if I still make you feel sick so I can finally retire,” Bond muttered, pushing the file through the door’s opening, uncaring that the papers inside spilled all over Q’s floor. “You’ve always said that I made a mess of things, so I really couldn’t disappoint your expectations, now could I?”

 

“Is your kind deadly allergic to not being complete pricks and to doing things as they are told?” Q growled, now jumping on foot because he was a very mature adult. “Or is it just you?”

 

Now many thought that only the sight of a well-developed woman jumping up and down could arouse, but Bond was staring at the definitive proof that they were wrong. Q going up and down, his curls bouncing around with him, his lips parted as he tried not to outright pant filled Bond’s head with all sorts of other images in which he was sweating, his arms were wrapped around his neck as he pushed his head against his naked chest, grunting in pleasure instead of annoyance, and he quickly stepped away from the door so the other wouldn’t notice just how tighter his pants had become.

 

“Read the file and you’ll find out,” Bond insisted, resting his forehead against the door, closing his eyes and imagined Q leaning against him as he tried to catch his breath. “And don’t worry about putting everything back in the proper order; I don’t think it ever was.”

 

That explained why the first five pages he read directly referred the contempt and complete disgust the 6th MI6 chief had towards their secret weapon “You’re a bloody bastard because you know it’s my job to fix your blunders,” he hissed while dropping on his knees and starting to shuffle through the mess. And truth be told, even if he wasn’t going to arrange everything in the proper order, how the hell was he supposed to know where to start? And should he panic about the page that started to disintegrate when he touched it?

 

“I may not show it, Q, but I am thankful every time you do that,” Bond said loud enough for Q to hear, shocking the other man for honestly showing gratitude for the first time since they met. “And I hope you’ll let me help you fix my actual blunder this time so we can laugh about this in a few months, over drinks.”

 

“We’ll see,” Q said softly, running his fingers down the page that was a very short list of the people that knew his secret throughout his supposed life and the even shorter one of those that had truly been his lovers, his own name bolded and underlined and being marked as ‘very special person on which 007’s sanity and inclination to save our asses’ – no pressure whatsoever. “I won’t make any promises,” but he will give it his all to make it so.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are love~


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